The Fallen Angel (Amazing Super Who Lock Is Not On Fire)
by Mockingfire
Summary: Fandoms unite! The Winchesters in London as a favour but who is this mysterious John Smith? Meanwhile Sherlock and Watson have their hands full with a seemingly impossible murder investigation which Watson's naming 'The Fallen Angel'. IN CHARACTER. (with appearances from The Doctor, and Dan and Phil) you've been warned!
1. Chapter 1

**It alternates between the perspective of the Winchester brothers (SUPER-), the Doctor (-WHO-) and the Sherlock duo (-LOCK) .**

**The heading of the chapter makes it obvious which fandom your reading about. **

**Working out a good plotline to bring the three fandoms together (feasibly) and in character, was a real challenge but I think I've managed it ****J**** I wont give any spoilers but hope you like it, if you think you've figured it out at any point, leave a comment, it'd be great to hear your thoughts ****J**** I hope I can do them all justice, sorry if mess it up (if I do something wrong please tell me and I'll fix it straight away) **

**Okay enough rambling, enjoy! **

**xx**

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**SUPER- (supernatural) P.O.V.**

Dean decided he definitely liked boats better than flying, though as he sprawled across one of the two single beds, his thoughts kept returning to an image of the Titanic. They'd seen a couple of icebergs a while back, nothing close enough to be a risk, but Dean had found it somewhat unsettling that something as basic as a piece of floating ice (no matter how big it might be) could bring down something as large as a ship like this, never mind one as big as the Titanic, it just seemed…unnatural. There was no way in Hell he was going to tell Sam about that though, he'd never live it down, but he couldn't wait to be back on the road.

He thought longingly of his Impala, waiting back home God knows (then again maybe not even God knew) wherever Cas had put it for 'safe keeping'. Dean didn't want to think about where the angel had stashed his Baby, it didn't bear thinking about because angels just didn't place the same value on inanimate objects. So even with the multiple death threats to ensure she returned unharmed- which Castiel knew to take seriously-he still worried.

Dean sighed, it wasn't going to do any good dwelling on it. He folded his arms behind his head and leaning back on the surrogate pillow and closed his eyes, he heard the sound of the door sliding open, but didn't look until his brother spoke.

'Don't trouble yourself, I'll just eat the pie myself.' Dean's head turned towards him, sitting up as Sam, balancing a tray precariously in one hand while he closed the door behind him.

'No problem,' Dean grinned, then craning his neck to look asked, 'where's the pie?'

Sam rolled his eyes, 'here' he said tossing Dean a white box.

'You heard anything more from Cas?' Sam asked him as he sat down, putting the two coffees down on the bedside table, and tucking the tray under the bed out of the way.

Dean shook his head shovelling a mouthful of apple pie into his mouth 'oh my God, you have got to try this!' He exclaimed, Sam declined and Dean shrugged 'your loss.'

Sam wasn't going to be distracted though, 'so what do we know exactly?'

'Sam we've gone over this how many times already?' The eldest Winchester groaned.

'We need to make sure we know as much about what we might be up against before we get there.'

'Weird killings...angels...blah blah blah...yeah we know that already, one of Cas's...friends, or whatever, needs our help to stop someone ganking angels, what's new?'

'But we don't know what's killing them.'

'Exactly , so we go guns blazing, and shoot whatever it is with everything we have until something offs it, just like we usually do.'

'I just don't like this.'

'Sam it's Cas.'

'Yeah I know, it's not Cas I don't trust it's just that we don't even know this guy, and Cas's judgement isn't always great, remember Crowley...all I'm saying is Cas'll do anything for the 'greater good'. How do we even know this John Smith guy isn't the one ganking them, is he even an angel or what?'

'No idea' Dean said, 'we'll just have to be on our guard and nothing'll go wrong.'

'Yeah I've heard that one before.' Sam snorted, but sighed 'fine, but just so you know, if we get killed I'm blaming you and your boyfriend.'

'Fine, whatever...wait, boyfriend?' Dean looked up at Sam who laughed at his expression

'just kidding Dean. Got to admit you'd make an adorable couple though...Ouch!' Sam yelled as the heavy backpack hit him squarely in the face.

Dean sat back smugly with his coffee, just as an announcement rang out of the ship's speakers.

'We will soon be arriving at London Southampton. Please ensure you collect all items in preparation for your departure. We hope you have had a pleasant journey on board _The Angeles_.'

'Finally!'

'It's been a few days, you know, it would have been a lot faster if we'd just flown.'

Dean scowled at his younger brother 'Just get your stuff and let's go meet our damsel in distress/possible angel killer, and do our damned job.'

**-LOCK (Sherlock) P.O.V.**

'Brilliant!' He exclaimed clasping his hands together.

Watson peered up from over the paper, 'what now?'

'No idea' Sherlock beamed. 'Want to take a look?' 'I'm hardly going to make any sense of it if you can't.' He protested, then realising that it wasn't really an option, he really needed to teach Sherlock to differentiate between a question and a demand. Then again, he thought as he folded the paper and put it down on the table, the young genius would only tell him it was irrelevant information, and it would only occupy highly important space in his 'attic'.

John exhaled as he took the paper Sherlock held out to him. 'you couldn't have just read it out to me?'

'Of course not! I require your unbiased opinion on the case. If I read it, the tone of my voice would influence your perception of the details, thereby altering your judgement, and that would completely defeat the point!'

Watson sighed, looking down at the article clipping.

"_**Unnamed woman found dead in uptown apartment.**_

_The woman (early twenties) who has yet to be identified, was found yesterday in her apartment in East Kensington, An investigation is underway into the death, however police found no evidence of forced entry to the flat which was locked from the inside and so the case is being treated as suicide until further evidence can be found…"_

'So?' Sherlock asked impatiently.

'Well it does sound a bit odd...'

'Exactly! He's a clever one, this one.'

'He?'

'Alright I suppose we can't disprove the possibility that it was a woman...though it's unlikely.'

'Wait so you don't think it was suicide?...no of course you don't, you wouldn't have shown me otherwise. But how do you know?'

Sherlock looked disappointed and more than a little annoyed. 'Surely even you can see the glaringly obvious clue.'

John looked back over the paper, 'erm...the door was locked from the inside?'

Sherlock sighed 'yes, yes, anyone with half a brain cell could see that and though it does tell us a great deal about the killer, it doesn't suggest any evidence that this was a homicide.'

Watson opened his mouth but Sherlock cut him off before he could speak 'lord people so stupid.' He muttered. 'Why do I even bother?'

John shook his head

'You knew I wouldn't be able to find anything, you just wanted to show how much smarter you are than everyone else. What clue could you have possibly found in a few sentences? We don't even know the woman's name.'

'Exactly John! It took you long enough.'

'You really need to work on your modesty, and by that I mean get some. We know you're smarter than...'

'No, no, not about me; though you are right of course, my intelligence for perception far surpasses that of most, but no, the clue is her name.'

'What are you on about?'

'Her _name _Watson!'

'What about it?'

'Nobody knows who she is! What was a nobody doing living with celebrities in her back garden?

South Kensington is not exactly the most illusive choice of locations.'

'I don't see how that helps?'

'Of course you don't, because there is nothing to help'

'Okay I'm still not following.'

'The article John! Reporters find out everything, especially if this was someone well to do they'd know everything about a suicide, but no, they don't even talk about the cause of death!' Sherlock paced across the room, stopping to stare out of the window. 'There's more going on here than meets the eye, it's being kept under total wraps, which means there's something to hide, but what would that be? 'Treated as suicide' if they thought this was simply suicide they'd have wrapped it up already and it wouldn't have even made the papers. To they must have found something. A murder weapon maybe. Something that suggests something other than a simple suicide so-'

'murder' John finished with a nod of understanding.

'Precisely. But whatever evidence they've found they can't make sense of it, or they'd have titled it this a suspected homicide. Which therefore means that once again the police force is out of their depth and so I should be receiving a phone call any moment-'

Just then the sound of a mobile interrupted him. With an 'I told you so' with a smirk, Sherlock answered.

'Hello Holmes speaking...ah Lestrade what a surprise... yes, I'll be right there.'

Sherlock hung up, then grabbing his scarf he said,

'get your jacket, we're going out.'

'Where to?' John asked though he already knew before Sherlock said a word.

'Kensington.' He said, with a self-satisfied grin. 'We've got a murder to investigate.'

**Yes I know, I'm sorry I made a Destiel joke ****J I can't promise there wont be any more (or Johnlock ones for that matter) but I promise that's it. Nothing explicit, no smut and no cannon relationships, no harm in a couple of jokes though is there ;) that's part of belonging to those fandoms (even the TV crew understand that. Anyways hope you liked it. Comment on what you thought below (whether you liked it or hated it, I appreciate honesty. CONSTRUCTIVE criticism though if you please) or even follow the story if you want to read more J**

**(Dr who fans, sorry there wasn't much this chapter for you definitely some coming up though, did anyone spot the mention of him in the first bit (just a hint for those who really know their Dr Who J ) **

**Next chapter either Sherlock, or Supernatural AND Doctor Who **


	2. Chapter 2

**_Hey guys! sorry for the wait, its taken a while to write because the plots so...detailed I'd just like to thank those of you who favourited, reviewed or followed this :D you guys are awesome and I hope I don't disappoint!_**

**_And also if you hadn't noticed it's changed from SuperWholock to_ AMAZINGSuperWhoLockISNOTONFIRE!...yes_ Dan and Phil fans , the boys will be making an appearance :D_**

**_okay so this Chapter's another Sherlock one, it'll be interesting to know what Sherlock fans think, those of you who know your Supernatural might be able to figure more out than the Sherlockians...but then again you never know :D tell me your theories ( no matter how wacky or insane they sound) and as always please tell me if I've made any mistakes and I will change them! enjoy! XD_**

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Chapter 2 - Sherlock (POV)

Lestrade met them at the apartment door. 'Woman, early...'

'Twenties, , yes we know already, don't be boring. Get to the point?' Sherlock insisted impatiently.

Lestrade rolled his eyes 'if you were anyone else...'

'Well lucky for you I'm not, because then you'd be completely lost.' Sherlock interrupted 'now, the case?'

Lestrade sighed 'Neighbour found our Vic yesterday afternoon, says he heard some commotion; shouting, and he knocked to see what was wrong, no reply, so called us and when we got here we found her dead. Doors and windows all locked from the inside, CCTV shows no one except the woman entering the flat and no one leaving, and no one can give us a name, no one is aware that she even lived here and we can't find any record of her anywhere, we've checked fingerprints, DNA, Medical and dental records...nothing.'

'What makes you think it wasn't suicide?' John asked, puzzled.

'You'll see exactly why.' The officer said. They walked through the sitting room entrance.

'Shhh' Sherlock hissed, pulling Lestrade and John up short, they both stopped walking. Sherlock muttered something under his breath; too quiet for anyone to hear, though John imagined it was probably along the lines of 'your stupidity is sending my brain cells into a coma' .

Sherlock ushered the rest of the investigation team from the room, most of who grumbled.

The body had been moved for post mortem and white tape marked the spot where it had been found. Sherlock scanned the room briefly as he crossed to the white taped area, the details of the death, was all very simple to deduce. There wasn't much damage to the apartment, just a few little things out of place, here or there, which told him a lot.

The place where the body had been lying on the other hand was soaked with blood which had dried into the carpet, encrusting it with a dark, rust colour which was never going to wash out. A violent death, painful. It was definitely murder. Not just because the violence of the death was too violent for the body to have fallen, lying on her back arms at her side.

But to either side, protruding from where her shoulder blades would have met the floor, were two large wings, intricately detailed, and burnt into the carpet, Sherlock raised an eyebrow amusement when he saw the pentagram painted onto the ceiling right above, then having surveyed the area for little more than 30 seconds he strode back to John and Lestrade.

'Done already?' 'Of course, it's not exactly rocket science, it takes nanoseconds for the eyes to register and process data.'

He frowned at the infuriated expression on Lestrade's face.

'It's hardly my fault if your brain is slower than mine, what do you expect, mine is much more exercised that yours. And you know, it wouldn't kill you to smile. In fact, it's been proven to some extent that smiling actually expands the lifespan of humans. You always look like someone's just died'.

John cleared his throat and Sherlock turned to him with a bemused expression, 'What did I say...? Oh,' he chuckled, 'not a very tasteful comment?' John shook his head and Sherlock smiled 'you normal people are so strange.'

Lestrade frowned at him impatiently. 'We need what you've got, now, Holmes.'

It looked as though Sherlock might refuse, if only just to irritate the inspector, but apparently the need to express his discoveries to someone won out.

'Our killer, about 6 foot, dark hair, young male I m guessing. He was someone our victim trusted, at least not to hurt her.'

'A friend? Boyfriend maybe?'

Sherlock nodded at John,

'most likely. She was worried though; jumpy, on edge, she was nervous about something...or someone which is why she was so startled by her visitor. and then he killed her?'

Sherlock shook his head, 'not immediately, he knocked her out first.'

Lestrade narrowed his eyes 'there's no way...'

'Really Lestrade, if you weren't so narrow minded you might actually be able to solve a case yourself.' Lestrade made to retort but Sherlock held up a hand to silence him and indicated towards the crime scene.

'The killer's description was simple enough, there was a hair over by the books, obviously not belonging to our victim, who if the large number of hairs around are anything to go by, is a blonde. The height was a simple judgement based on the significant scuffs of the carpet where someone's heels caught the material while dragging something heavy, presumably the body.'

'Brilliant' John exclaimed.

'John, if you don't mind.'

'Sorry' he mumbled.

'That's quite alright, but I haven t solved the case yet. 'He's just making it up as he goes along.' A voice said and they all turned to face Anderson.

'Come on, there's not way you could have worked out everything in less than a minute. Tell us, what 'obvious' clue did you find. Let me guess, you found a pair of shoelaces stolen from the president?' Anderson sneered.

'Of course not, don't be stupid.' Sherlock retorted and Anderson glared at him 'Come on then tell us what was it?'  
Sherlock completely unfazed, met Anderson's narrowed gaze and said confidently

'Tea and books'.

Anderson snorted 'ha, that's helpful'

'Anderson, Shut it' Lestrade ordered cutting him off. Anderson but didn't say another word.  
Lestrade asked 'so how do those help?'

Sherlock smiled in amusement 'Sometimes I wonder how they can call you professionals' Lestrade ignored the comment thankfully, and Sherlock continued.

'The books; they've been knocked over, judging by the way they fell, the woman knocked them with her right knee as she turned so probably right handed, you can tell she was turning by the spread of the tea -Earl Grey, disgusting stuff' he made a face.

'She was choosing a book to read, cup in one hand, her right, there's no sign to indicate that she was expecting visitors, and our killer comes up behind her, startling her, causing her to spill her drink as she spins to face him, as shown by the arched shape of the tea stain on the carpet. She knocked the books at same moment, the pattern in which they fell mirroring that of the tea. There's no other sign of disturbance to any of her other possessions, so we must assume that she didn't put up a fight and the only reason that would be is if she knew and trusted this person not to harm her so it's probable that they were well acquainted'

'The wings?' John asked.

'Most likely the work of someone with strong religious beliefs, he most likely though he was carrying out God's work by committing this murder, the pentagram for similar reasons, it's often used in belief as protection against the devil and his minions.'

'Well we guessed along those lines.' Lestrade said

'Good well maybe you're not completely incompetent.' Sherlock told him. 'Maybe you can start hiring ten year olds into the force.'

'Sherlock' John warned, Sherlock shrugged it off.

'Right Holmes, how are we supposed to track down a close friend of this woman, if no one is even aware of her existence

'I need to see the body.' Sherlock said. Lestrade's phone rang before he could respond.

'Excuse me,' he told them before answering.'

'Lestrade Speaking...Molly, yes...Holmes? Here's here now. Why? What's wrong?...you're sure?' John sent a puzzled glance to Sherlock who shrugged.

'...of course.' Lestrade finished, 'Holmes,' He said holding out the phone, Sherlock took it and walked a few steps out of earshot, 'What's the matter?' John asked. Lestrade frowned, 'the forensics team have found some rather unusual things about out victim.'

'Like wha...?' He never finished as Sherlock came back over looking delighted. He handed the phone back to Lestrade and clapped his hands together.

'Haven't had a case this fun for months! Come on John, we're needed else where.'

'where are we going now?'

'St Bartholomew's. We've got a date with our fallen angel.'

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**_Thanks for reading, hope you're enjoying it and I'm not boring you to death :P ...Supernatural chapter up next and maybe an appearance of The Doctor !_**

**_xx_**


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